Some might say their beliefs, whatever they might be, determine reality. I understand what they mean, but reality has nothing to do with any of that.

Reality, as it is used here, has nothing to do with thought. We can certainly think about it, make theories, and create ideals that seem better. But in the end, that is not reality, but an image held up as a representation of reality. This is sometimes hard for others to get their head around because they function fully from a world that exists only in their mind. So it seems natural that what their mind projects is absolutely real. But is it?

There are some Gurus that claim beliefs determine reality. But that is still the action of ego, or whatever you want to call it. Belief comes from the self. It doesn’t exist apart from thought. It is not an independent entity, like a flower or a cat. Beliefs have to have a believer. A tree doesn’t.

If there is no manipulator, or no center that perceives, what happens? If no one is present to believe reality into existence, does that then mean reality doesn’t exist? Or could it be reality cannot be understood through interpretation or identification?

The idea of a self creating reality is still the same old trick. It is ego inserting itself as the center of the universe. How can one say that their limited thought with its limited capacity is responsible for the wonders of reality? We are too dull and controlling as a whole to create something so beautiful. That is not to say that humanity is incapable of wonderful feats and beautiful creations. But seriously, we still throw rocks at people we think to be different from us, and I am supposed to swallow the notion that we create the universe? We cannot even live here without tearing one another apart.

Reality is more beautiful than any story of yours or mine could ever hope to explain. But it is also fragile. So fragile that it cannot survive the onslaught of our projected imagery. It is delicate, as a flower, and it cannot be forced to bloom in the manner of our manipulations.

Life blooms in concert with the flower of reality, but only when we give up the need to control.

XXXXXXXXXX

I have received many questions since my last bit of writing, and in the next few weeks I’ll post some of them here with my replies. (Sorry to those of you I have not yet responded to or otherwise contacted. I have not been ignoring you, but have been away on purpose, to meditate on experiences and perceptions. I’ll also write a bit on those, as well.)

I also have more podcasts planned, but I’m not sure about the posting frequency. Any suggestions?

I am looking forward to returning to regular interaction with all of you now that I am back. I am toying with the idea of a different posting schedule, though. Instead of a post on every weekday, I might go with every other day. Comments seem to rise when I leave room for others to breathe.

See you all on Monday.

Mayumi loved Chopin.

She mentioned it to me the first day we met. I could see that love in her face. The same beauty found in Chopin’s music was easily seen in her movements. The way she brought the tea, the way she washed the dishes, the way she sat in seiza on the tatami. The way she said “Thank you,” in broken English.

She had the hands of a pianist. Supple and graceful, tenuous and fragile. Great power hid in those slender fingers.

Her writing was beautiful. Every stroke of every kanji was in its right place. The spacing between the characters gave energy to each line, and such beauty could only be created by compassionate hands.

I touched those hands on a number of occasions, and could understand completely the intimate and finite nature of life. I didn’t want to give them back when I held them, but could not bring myself to keep them for fear of their destruction. They held great energy, but also frailty. They could express the fullness of life.

Mayumi loved Star Trek.

She had all of the films, every episode of every series, technical manuals, novels, novelizations, and could recite the lines of her favorite scenes off the top of her head. She was exposed to those stories at just the right time it would seem, and they stuck with her, quickly becoming her favorite.

Those stories - the best of them - tell the tale of what it is to be human. Perhaps she found something there that mirrored her own sorrow and struggles. As if they were tailored to her.

Last month she let me borrow Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan (my favorite), and Star Trek 4: The Voyage Home (her favorite). I had plans to ask her to join me in seeing the new Star Trek film when it opens on May 2009.

But on Monday the 10th, Mayumi passed away.

It is strange. Her voice is in my head. I can hear her laughing. I can see her smile. I can feel her hands. The memories are intact. But there is no one here trying to desperately cling to those memories, or to grieve for something that was lost.

Although she is gone, I didn’t lose anything. I close my eyes and see her smiling, laughing, talking. She is wonderful. She is happy, and without fear. She is as I knew her.

Knowing her enriched my life. The moments were lovely, and it was very special. One never knows when the flower will wilt and die, but the beauty that is there during life is immense and accessible to everyone. You’ll see it if you know how to look.

Akiko cried for her, and I could feel great sorrow. But when I cried later that night, I cried with a smile on my face. I was thankful for meeting her, seeing that smile, touching those hands. The moments we shared were unique, and I was so grateful for the opportunity to know her.

In my mind, she is just as happy as the last time I saw her. She is laughing, and grateful for every day she has.

And that is how she will always be remembered.

This comes from the comments on, Question and Answer (or Question and Question?) Part Two. (Plus, something new at the end.)

I would like to suggest something and I hope you do not take offense. Perhaps it is right or wrong, my mind continues to evolve and I cannot say. The moment you died, a belief shift occurred. You decided that this moment was perfect, that your thoughts were what was making you suffer. You experience the effects of that belief. That belief creates an experience that is wonderful and joyous and perfect and needs nothing more.

It is true that we can believe something to be joyous and we will indeed experience joy. It is not a difficult thing to get our heads around. Or we can believe something to be horrible and we will live in that horror.

I wanted to find out what is there without belief at all. Not say that it is right or wrong. If I believe it to be right, I have gone nowhere. I would still be inside of thought.

If in the moment of death, a belief shift occurred, then I would question if death actually arrived. If I decide the moment is perfect, then I am sure to see my idea of perfection. But then again, I have to have an idea of what is right, then project it onto reality, then everything I see is perfect. If that is what I do, am I really seeing anything? Or just my idea of what is perfect?

And what happens if someone or something challenges my idea of perfection?

It is a serious thing we should all consider at some point in our lives. If I decide what perfection is, have a conclusion, and live through that, is that living? I am still seeing through thought, although it might be a prettier thought than the last one.

XXXXXXXXXX

This was written about nine months ago when I was visiting the United States. I’ll add a few thoughts on the same topic here.

Belief is cumbersome. Very heavy. A massive amount if energy is spent holding up the illusion day after day.

When there was an “I” that believed, HE sank to the bottom from the burden’s heavy weight. But when HE died, the being was free to move, free to fly.

HE is sunk, gone, a shadowy memory. And yet the organism still goes on and on.

HE used to blame others for his stupidity. HE would live in awful situations but never take responsibility. And even with the facts before HIM, it was never clear because of what HE believed.

The ideals, the beliefs, were so comforting yet dangerous. HE could stay there, because that is all HE knew. Even though HE wasn’t living. It was a life lived on referral.

The reference point was always there, you see. Something would happen, and the manual of the mind, the beliefs, the shoulds and should nots, would rise up before HIM, and using that palette of dull color HE would react.

The fact would be before HIM, but all HE could see was the choice. “Based on this, I choose this!”

But after HE died, there were no longer any choices; no longer any grays, charcoals, or ashes on the palette.

All that is left is timelessness.

Being.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It still has friends, but there is really no way to know. People seem to arrive and leave. Then the cycle repeats.

It sees other beings moving gracefully through the streets. Their faces have a timeless quality. So beautiful. They are already enlightened, but why don’t THEY see it?

The answer is in the question.

Last night it felt the rain on its face, but it was never cold.

Question of the Week: 3/03 - 3/09

Today I have an audio post for the question of the week.

This is my first attempt, so it is a no frills, simple recording. If there is general interest in this kind of thing, then I will continue to post audio from time to time. (I hope so, as it was surprisingly easy to do.)

Just let me know in the comments, or through the contact page.

You can also download this clip.

i notice that my mind is like a measuring device, it HAS TO KNOW whats there, it is not content just to luxuriate in the mystery and leave it at that. It needs to break everything down, find out its constituent parts, how it works, whats behind the mystery…

The mind IS a measuring device, in a manner of speaking, but it does not need to know anything. It records what comes, recalls what is already there, and responds to the challenges of daily living. Just like the ears; they hear but do not listen. Just like the eyes; they see but do not interpret. The only thing that HAS TO KNOW is you. If it is important to know, it is because the self sees it as such. That does not make it good or bad, or anything.

The mind can only know what it already knows. It can never know any more, or any less. There is no inherent desire to know anything, as that comes from somewhere else. The self interprets events according to its own survival, then decides what should be known or learned.

Let’s say there is something you absolutely have to know (whatever it happens to be). Why do you need to know it? Again, this is not about right or wrong, but why do you absolutely need to know it? Does it come from anywhere other than the desires of the self?

If you need to meet your significant other in a new location, then maybe you need to know how to get there. But that is not the same thing as what we are talking about. It isn’t a need; just information. Can we reduce all needs to mere information? If we are stuck in the field of thought, we only deal with what we know; what is dead. Is there a need beyond thought? (I am not saying there is or there isn’t.)

I think there is something about the cold that makes you feel alive, you cant avoid the sensations that scream your alive and on spaceship Earth….

Extreme cold, or extreme heat, can trigger natural mechanisms in the organism. I find it all extremely interesting, and it is probably a good chance to see what goes on in your own mind. If it is extremely cold, you might shiver, or naturally move in such a way as to provide additional heat. Those things are natural. What I find interesting are the thoughts we put on top of that.

It seems hilarious to me that when it is cold, some people actually believe that it shouldn’t be cold. Or they repeatedly tell themselves (and others) that it is cold. Really? I am standing next to you in below freezing weather, and you are telling me it is cold. Why? Is it just conversation? If it is just conversation, then why do you not talk about the cold during the summer? Because then, you talk about the heat.

And it goes on and on, Haha.

How do you see this awareness that is independent of self?

It is not that I see the awareness; there is just awareness. If there is no duality, there is no longer the “I” and the “something else.” There is only whatever is there.

So many people still think of it as something to have. I need to have peace and not this suffering. Well, what is the reality? The peace, or the suffering? Start where you are with what you have, because that is all that can ever be.